


The Acolyte

by AplusIsRoman



Series: Febuwhump2021 [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Tales From The SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Asphyxiation, Backstory, City of Mizu, Emotional Manipulation, FebuWhump2021, Gen, Mind Control, Murder, Poisoning, Possession, Prequel, Tales From The SMP, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29167779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AplusIsRoman/pseuds/AplusIsRoman
Summary: Febuwhump Day 1: Mind ControlAcolyte: a person assisting the celebrant in a religious service or procession; an assistant or follower.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Ranbob (City of Mizu)
Series: Febuwhump2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141217
Comments: 9
Kudos: 71





	The Acolyte

**Author's Note:**

> A day late, but better late than never! Hope you guys enjoy!

There was a voice in Ranbob’s head, and invisible threads moving his body.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” The voice crooned. 

“Yes, of course,” he said. Because it was what he wanted, right? This was what he asked for. 

It was easy to pour the tainted potion on the dirt. The plants absorbed it, taking on an unnatural sheen. Ranbob’s hands shook as he hid away the empty glass bottle in his clothes.

“Shh, don’t worry. You’re doing so well!” The words were praising, but the tone felt jeering. Ranbob’s feet began walking himself away from the scene of the crime when he lingered for too long, staring down at the deed he couldn’t undo. 

The next morning, there was an emergency announcement and a recall of all food products. Ranbob pretended to act surprised when he heard the early-morning workers’ fates, but it didn’t matter in the end. No one paid him much attention anyway - they never did care much about the odd one out, the one who idolized a so-called monster.

“I’m your friend, Ranbob,” the voice murmured, and Ranbob felt warm. Is this what friendship was like? He quite liked it. 

“Of course,” the voice assured him. “Friends help friends feel better. And you know, I think there’s something more you can do, to help me feel a bit better…”

The air filtration unit was what sucked CO2 out of and moved the oxygen from the tree dome into the deepest parts of Mizu. Ranbob hesitated to contort his body into the pretzel-form it would need to be to reach inside, to the parts no one would check, to dump in clumps of soil that would surely max out the entire machine. Luckily, Ranbob’s friend was there to help.

(It was painful, but it was over quickly. Ranbob winced whenever someone brushed past him, pressing against his sore bruises. It was worth it though, to see the looks in their eyes as they reported the bodies in the lower levels, curled up as if to sleep and then never wake again. It was worth it because it made Ranbob’s friend happy, and that was all that mattered.)

Ranbob slept on the east wing. It was the closest to his idol’s room, that he had decorated himself. Apparently, he had started sleepwalking.

The voice helpfully informed him that the habit was genetic.

The problem was that Ranbob had woken up, sword in his hands, pacing up and down the corridor like a hungry animal. 

“I was just making sure no one was coming to bother us,” Ranbob’s friend helpfully informed him. Ranbob wondered if the dark stains on the blade had anything to do with the recent disappearances he’d been hearing of.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” The voice repeated itself.

“Yes, yes,” Ranbob nodded to himself, speaking aloud in an empty corridor.

“This is what I wanted.”

He got used to the smell of blood under his feet and the weight of a sword in his hands after he crashed the council’s meeting. People ran from him in the halls, but there were so few of them left - some poisoned, some asphyxiated, some starved and some… well, some were slain like cattle. 

He hunted them down through the many twists and turns, through each locked room, (had he stolen the keys in his sleep?) until there was a bloodstain in every part of the once-great city. Ranbob’s breathing grew erratic, watching the life drain from people he grew up alongside. Yes, they had scorned and mocked him, but something about this felt wrong. His eyes burned from the sight of a few of his family members trying to crawl away from the scene of the massacre. 

“Close your eyes,” the voice said. The words were sympathetic and soothing and Ranbob obeyed without question, letting the voice puppet him, removing the last of the pests from Mizu. 

_Did he really want this? He wanted a friend. He wanted to meet his idol. Isn’t this what he wanted?_ He refused to cry when he felt bone crunch underneath his heel. 

“What a good acolyte,” Dream’s voice cooed in Ranbob’s head. 

**Author's Note:**

> Why is Ranbob's name fucking /Ranbob/. Get it together, Dream.


End file.
